Skeleton Skin
by ExTeenDirtbag
Summary: This whole situation has Dabi fucked up, honestly. Hawks was supposed to be the double agent, the one trying to infiltrate the League of Villains, but thanks to some cosmic twist of fate or some sick fuck of a creator, Dabi ends up helping the heroes. But before that happens there are a few very unlucky events which befall him


_My world revolves around a black hole_

_The same black hole that's in place of my soul, _

_Empty, I feel so goddamn empty_

_I may go rogue_

_Juice WRLD_

_9:38AM_

A thin stream of sunlight snaked past a set of ratty green curtains, carelessly nailed to the wall around a small dingy window, the glass cracked and spider webbing with the threat of shattering all together. Much like Dabi's frame of mind as of late, even the smallest amount of pressure ran the risk of sending shards scattering across the dirt covered floor.

Although right now he can't be bothered to give half a shit about anything other than the pounding in his head and the ache in his bones. His temple pulses with pain in time with his sluggish heart beat and not for the first time in his miserable life he wishes the obstinate organ would just cease its worthless function completely.

Unfortunately that doesn't happen and he's left to writhe around on the shabby old couch, the tattered material catching on his staples every so often.

The sofa has been shoved into the corner of the room in the abandoned building he'd been squatting in for the better part of a month; the whole structure had been condemned years ago and since then it had housed all manner of degenerates and deviants, graffiti littering the walls and trash of all kinds strewn about the halls and rooms, including the small room he had decided to crash in.

Along with the sunken couch he's currently collapsed on, the room contains a small table and bookshelf (cluttered with just about everything under the sun except a single fucking book for him to read) and a boxy TV that is probably older than he is. Not that he's complaining or anything; it's been rigged to run off the stolen power in the building and he can cycle through 4 whole channels, so there's at least some noise against the backdrop of the rat infested neighborhood and the bottomless void of his own thoughts.

It's shabby but it's home for now. He's not sure he could tolerate living in with the other LoV members, just the thought of residing in such close proximity to the rest of them for an extended time makes his temples pulse with more pain.

Huffing quietly as he forces himself into a sitting position the villain holds a hand to his head as though it might ease the pain, only to scowl as it causes him to notice the blood caked to the side of his head from the small gash that rests just above his hairline.

_Fucking Spinner and his damn lizard brain nearly got us killed in that meet up last night._

Scrubbing at the side of his head in annoyance, crumbles of dried blood flake off his skin to fall on the collar of his shirt and cake up under his nails. It blends in with the other layers of grit and grime covering him and he wonders vaguely if there's any possibility of a (lukewarm) shower in his near future. Shedding his heavy coat and flopping back onto the couch miserably, he decides that he can't be bothered at the moment and doesn't have a spare change of _clean_ clothes around anyway, so the shower would be a waste of energy.

A small sigh escapes the villain as dim turquoise eyes slide shut briefly.

He felt like absolute garbage and he was going to roast that damn lizard alive the next time he saw him. Honestly, it wasn't that hard to coordinate an arms trade was it? Apparently it was for the scaly bastard, otherwise Dabi would be drinking at the bar and doing a line or two right about now.

As it was, the meeting last night had gone almost completely sideways and Dabi had taken the brunt of the attacks from the one powerful quirk user the other gang had on their side. And he had been _strong_, a much more powerful fighter than any of the villains thought the other team could have gotten their hands on. Not to mention he'd had an ice quirk which just made Dabi's job that much harder. They'd just barely managed to escape before the Pro Heros hand shown up to break up the festivities.

So here he was, splayed out on a couch that he _wasn't_ one hundred percent convinced wasn't going to cave in under his slight weight and feeling like he was going to puke, pass out, or spontaneously combust.

Maybe some comedic combination of all three?

A small shiver rolled through his tall frame, causing his already aching muscles to tense up, pain flaring for a few seconds before his whole body went slack against the scratchy sofa cushions. He felt a cough building up in his chest but cleared his throat, breathing softly until the feeling eventually passed.

"Mother fucker..just gotta sleep this off…" the black haired man curled back up on his side with another sigh, feeling some of his staples catch on his shirt and the sofa before using his coat as a blanket and wrinkling his nose slightly as he caught a whiff of the dirt and sweat that had seeped into the fabric. He snorted lightly, figuring he probably didn't smell much better.

_Shower when I wake up… Nap first. _

And just like that he was asleep again, woefully unaware of the unfortunate turn his day was about to take in the next few hours.

* * *

His reentry into consciousness was unpleasant to put it mildly.

As Dabi's mind struggled for clarity from the tacky blackness of sleep, he immediately wished that he'd been able to stay blissfully unaware of his body's current state of distress.

As he lay with his eyes still firmly shut against the light from the window he felt as if the room was spinning and wobbling around him, and he genuinely had to second guess whether or not he was sick or simply drunk off his ass. But as he became more aware he realized this feeling wasn't from one of his many benders. Breathing shallowly, the fire user coughed a few times and the jarring action only made the nauseous feeling in his stomach that much worse. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth as he felt his throat constrict against the bile he could feel threatening to force it's way out.

Breathing shallowly for a few seconds until he was sure he wasn't going to throw up everywhere he slid his hand into his hair and pulled on it miserably.

Opening his eyes slightly he could see that he'd shoved his thick coat onto the debris ridden floor at some point and that he was _hot._

His brain whined at him as he rolled onto his back, feeling his white shirt stick to his sides and chest from how much he was sweating.

_Ugh.. Gross. _

Waiting for a moment for the room to stop spinning as much before sitting up, Dabi grabbed the hem of his soaked shirt and pulled the thin material over his head, dropping it on the floor beside the abandoned coat with a soft 'plop'; the action sending a small cloud of dust up into the air. Throwing his legs over the edge of the couch and leaning forward the dark haired villain let out a long breath while glancing around the cluttered room for his other clothes. They weren't clean by any stretch of the imagination but they were better than what he currently had on.

Spotting the pile of black cloth thrown carelessly on one of the cramped bookcase shelves he placed both hands on his knees and pushed himself up into a standing position. However; as soon as he was up right he felt his blood pressure drop, his vision started to tunnel and his brain felt staticy. Swaying slightly as everything started to right itself, he felt more than a little pissed off.

He figured he would have felt better after sleeping earlier; normally when he overused his quirk he would feel sick for a few hours then be back to normal. But it had been almost a full 12 hours since the fight at the warehouse, so why did he still feel like shit? Did he get hit with a different quirk when he wasn't paying attention? Were Spinner and Toga feeling the same way?

After waiting a moment to make sure he wasn't going to pass out, he grabbed his clothes from the bookshelf and made his way down the empty hallway of the building, stopping at a large metal door, a faded 'LOCKER ROOM: EMPLOYEES ONLY' sign hanging sideways from a single screw holding it in place. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and sent a quick text to Toga.

_11:27AM_

_Did you two make it back to the bar last night?_

He didn't bother putting his phone back in his pocket as he shouldered the dense metal door open, letting it slide shut behind him loudly as he tossed the small device next to his wallet, clothes and towel on a bench next to a row of shower cubicles.

He didn't even have time to do more than kick his heavy boots off before a small chime sounded in the empty room, bouncing off the washed out mint green tiles.

_11:29AM_

_AW, were you worried about us Patches?! Aren't you so sweet! [heart emoji, sparkle heart emoji, kissy face emoji] We've been here for a while! About to go on another errand soon! _

_11:29AM_

_Whatever. Let that dusty bastard know I'm going dark for a few days, bye. _

With that, Dabi snapped the cheap flip phone shut and tossed it down, rolling his eyes even though it didn't do anything but make his head ache more. He supposed Toga's response answered his question, the two of them seemed fine enough for Shigaraki to send them out again so soon so this meant that he what he was feeling wasn't the effect of some quirk. A small voice in the back of his head nagged at him that this was more than just quirk exhaustion though.

Shaking his head the villain shoved his jeans off and kicked them over next to his boots; a small chime echoed in the room again and he creased his brows in annoyance, grabbing the phone again and ready to tell Toga to fuck off but paused when he saw there were no new messages.

Had he imagined the noise?

Growling as loudly as his sore throat would allow he threw the phone onto the counter a few feet away, the small piece of plastic skidding across the smooth surface and crashing into the bottom of the mirror mounted along the back. He didn't bother to look at himself, instead turned and pulled off his boxers before stepping into one of the shower stalls and turning the knob.

The old pipes creaked and groaned loudly before finally producing a pitiful stream of cool water. Sticking his head under the stream and scrubbing at his matted hair he let out a soft 'fuck', the liquid feeling so cold against his overheated skin it was almost painful.

He pulled his head back after a few minutes, shivering as cold water ran down his back and chest. Taking a moment to ready himself the black haired man moved so his body was under the flowing water and immediately started scrubbing at the dirt on his skin, being careful not to be too rough near his staples but making sure they were sufficiently last thing he needed to deal with was a damn infection. Some of the skin on his arms and wrists moved more freely than it should have over the muscle and sinew underneath letting him know he had definitely overdone it last night. Pushing back the thoughts about what overusing actually did to his body, he focused in getting out way from the cold water.

_Fuck fucking goddamn mother cunting fuckkk. _

It only took about two minutes for him to get himself somewhat clean but by the time he shut the water off he was shivering violently.

"Goddamn that was fucking _brisk."_ He muttered to himself in anger as he quickly dried himself off. He was _awake_ now, that was for damn sure. And while his body still ached fiercely, he did feel better. He wasn't as dizzy or nauseous and he could actually think instead of feeling dazed and loopy.

Picking up his spare change of clothes and shaking them out Dabi dressed slowly, taking note of how his body moved, limbs not quite as responsive as he'd like them to be and movements jerky and stiff. How his lungs and throat felt scratchy and tight (though he thinks that might be because he's been smoking so much more often these past few weeks). They way his temples is still throb and make him want to gouge his eyes out to massage his brain to see if it would help ease the ache.

He reaches up to rub his eyes and one of the staples holding the skin of his wrist together pops free from it's flesh prison, landing on the tile with a tiny metallic clink. Blood wells up where the healthy flesh of his hand separates from the scarred dermis at his wrist, beading up slowly until gravity brought it trailing sluggishly down his forearm. He watched in disinterest as the small rivulet of blood stops not even halfway down his arm, the red fluid cooling quickly and congealing before it could continue its lazy descent towards his elbow.

Swiping his towel over it, careful as to not pull the skin anymore, the fire user swiped his flip phone from the counter and gathered up the remainder of his clothes.

_Guess it's time for a trip to the drug store. _

Walking through the doorway to his room Dabi deposited the dirty clothes in the corner and pulled his coat off the dusty floor to root through the multitude of pockets before pulling out his personal phone.

Tapping the glass screen and swiping a finger over the page, he tapped the blue and black pre-paid banking app he had installed and waited for it to load.

After a few seconds a login screen popped up asking for an email and password before directing him to the homepage of the app.

_**Welcome, Dabi! **_

_Current balance:_ _¥ 4,590.64_

_Pending Charges:_

Blue Bar: - ¥907.89

Coffee House: -¥453.84

Shuzuko's: - ¥1,893.07

_Well fuck_

Dabi thought as he chewed on his bottom lip and looked around for his wallet, silently hoping against hope that there was some spare cash inside.

Grabbing the small rectangle and flipping it open he was actually surprised to find a few crumpled bills inside.

_Well that should be enough to get some supplies from Ms. June. _

Switching over to his messaging app he quickly selected her name and tapped out a short message.

_11:57AM_

_You working today? _

_11:57AM_

_Always working sugar, what you need? _

_11:57AM_

_Just my usual, I can be at your place in 15._

_11:58AM_

_I'll leave the door open hun, ain't no rush._

Locking the device and sliding it into his pocket, Dabi ran a hand through his hair and tried to muster up enough energy to make the short walk to Ms. June's apartment but was finding it increasingly more difficult to even keep himself awake. Blinking owlishly he forced himself off the couch again and didn't even bother to grab his coat, simply walking out the door and down the empty stairwell.

The sudden wave of exhaustion worried him slightly. While he wasn't a stranger to feeling fairly unwell most of the time, it was usually to a degree that he could tolerate because he'd gotten used to it over the years. But this? He was genuinely concerned that he might actually fall asleep while he was walking down the street.

_So much for sleeping this off..._

The walk to the apartment complex is uneventful but relaxing, it's a bit cool outside and the breeze feels orgasmic on his overheated skin; he's glad he hadn't bothered with his coat as the cool air circulated through the loose white shirt he was wearing.

Ms. June's unit is thankfully on the first floor so all he has to do is pull open the double doors on the side of the building and her door is propped open three spaces down, yelling and raucous laughter filling the air. He leans against the frame and knocks on the cheap wood, alerting her to his presence.

Ms. June is a short but slightly overweight old woman with a kind face but eyes that have definitely seen some shit; her wild greying hair is kept back by a red headscarf that he's never actually seen her without and she's got her reading glasses perched on the the end of her nose, head tilted back to peer through them at a piece of paper in her hand.

Her head snaps over to him at the knock, though he's not sure how she heard it amidst all the neighborhood children and her own grand kids screaming over each other.

"There you are sugar! Come on in here, kids ya'll get gone and don't be botherin' nobody!" She shoo's the herd of tiny humans away and he maneuvers his way around them as they flood out the open doorway to cause havoc out in the neighborhood.

He leans down to give her a small hug, her dark skin smooth and cool against the scarred flesh of his exposed arms.

"Have mercy child, you get skinnier every time I see you." She mutters just loud enough for him to hear as he pulls away from her embrace and he sees her eyes dart to the missing staple in his wrist. He shrugs, not needing to explain to her that he doesn't really have enough money for much more than a cheap meal every few days if he's lucky, and flops down on the couch behind him. "I got you you some extra staples this time, help hold you over cus Im'a be out of town for a few weeks." She tells him as she places a brown bag on the table in front of them before lighting the cigarette that's been hanging out of her mouth since he showed up. He pulls his wallet out and holds up the folded bills to her asking lazily "There any way you could float me some Oxy too?"

She takes the bills without missing a beat and shoves them into her bra before standing from her chair to shuffle to a locked cabinet just beside a fridge that's seen much better days. "I'm guessing you want 80's?" He just grunts in response not caring either way, he'd take Ibuprofen 800 at this point if it was all he could get.

Pulling out two bottles she puts them both in a small baggie and tosses them to him, the pills landing in his lap and nearly falling to the floor before he grabs them and shoves them in his front pocket. "I'll put those on your tab." Dabi gives her a small grin.

"You're too good to me Ms. J." She walks back over and smacks the side of his head lightly before leaning her weight against the arm of the couch to nearly tower over him. "I want you to keep yourself alive, brat! You're a good kid and I don't wanna see you dead in my ally somewheres." He shrinks back into the couch a bit, feeling slightly guilty about making her worry about him. When he'd first met her nearly 7 years ago there had been a group of punks that thought they were hot shit because they had some cool quirks and were subsequently trying to move in on Ms. J's territory. They had cornered two of her grandchildren outside the complex and were threatening to kill both kids and Dabi happened to be strolling by. It had really only pissed him off to see two guys his age trying to murder a couple of kids who had probably just gotten their quirks. So he'd stepped in, roasting the two wanna be gangsters and the kids had run to their gran to tell her what happened. He hadn't gotten a block away before the kids had chased him down and told him Ms. June wanted to meet him.

Since then she'd done everything from giving him a place to sleep to stitching him up when he got into too much trouble. It was strange to him, she was stern, loud, and it was so different that the way his own mother had ever been…

"Look I know you're gonna do whatever you want cus you're a hard headed little fucker but-"

"You don't gotta worry ya know, I'm too stubborn to die if I'm not ready."

The short woman just let a breath out before sitting back in her chair. "Fine, out with you then. I got other clients coming by soon."

_Ah_

He nodded, grabbing the paper sack off the table and wandering out the door.

He politely waited till he was about 200 feet from the building before he popped one of the pills into his mouth and swallowed it dry. He probably had enough to last him a few days and he figured he'd probably be back to normal tomorrow so he could spare a few of the pills for more… Recreational uses.

* * *

By the time he made it back to the room he was living out of he was shivering again, the cool weather no longer relaxing but feeling like freezing needles against all of his exposed skin. He set the bag down on the small coffee table and the ache in his bones seemed to intensify.

Pulling the baggie out of his back pocket and sitting in front of the small coffee table he fished out a pill and placed it on the table before using the bottom of a beer bottle to crush it into smaller bits. It takes a few minutes to get it crushed enough for his liking before he pulls out his pocket knife to finish the job. Soon enough he's got two decent sized lines in front of him and they are gone in seconds, disappearing with a swipe of the fast food straw he'd found laying around. He draws air in through his nose sharpy and presses his thumb against the side of his nostril, careful to avoid his nose studs, as his eye waters slightly at the burn in his sinuses.

_Fuck that's good. _

Dabi's made a point to not get too out of line with his drug use, he doesn't want it to be something he can't function without or that impedes his goals, but he can definitely see how, in another life; he would lose himself in this feeling. The slow spread of gentle warmth through his veins so unlike the liquid inferno that is his quirk, so calming. The way the world shifts and everything seems to move just a bit slower, just a bit smoother and sharper. He would love to fall into that hole and never find his way out. But he's got too much to do, too much to fix, too many heroes to kill…

He feels his temple bump the leg of the table and idly wonders when he laid down, but finds he can't really bring himself to care all that much. He just let's himself float in limbo and enjoys the lack of feeling in his body, the moment of peace. Of calm. Of nothing.

_The sweet release of death._

The thought comes into his mind before he can stop it and his heart rate picks up at the idea of endless nothingness.

The crunch of glass reaches his ears and he immediately shoots up, abdominal muscles protesting the swift movement and his eyes immediately lock onto the person, _the child,_ standing in his doorway.

Framed by fading golden sunlight and softly falling dust particles is none other than Shouto Todoroki.

* * *

_Earlier that morning_

_3:27 a. m. _

Nemuri awakens immediately when she hears the knob on her front door giggle. Senses on high alert the 18+ hero stays completely still, listening intent for what was going on outside her door. The sound of a key sliding into the lock a moment later calms her heart a bit, the only people that had a key to her apartment were Aizawa and Yamada. Listening her unknown guest stumble around her apartment for a handful of minutes she hears the rustle of clothing and the shower turn on; the soft 'thump' off boots being deposited onto her bathroom floor. She sighs, realizing it must be Aizawa because as much as she loved Yamada, he was loud no matter what he was doing.

She confirms this when she glances at the clock to see the red numbers flashing _3:31 AM_ in large block letters. He must have just gotten done with his patrol.

She waits a moment before climbing softly from her bed before walking into the hallway and stopping in front of the cracked bathroom door. Steam billows lightly into her face and she pushes the door open, pausing only to pull off the oversized shirt she had been sleeping in before climbing into the shower with Aizawa, who is sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest under the spray of hot water.

"Bad night Shouta?" She asks quietly as she tests the water with her hand before stepping forward so her cold shins are pressed to his toned back, knees knocking against his protruding shoulder blades.

He only grunts in response and she leaves him be as she goes about washing her face and body, being careful not to get soap all over him.

After a few minutes he finally straightens up right and sits criss-cross before looking backwards up at her, one eye closed against the water hitting the side if his face.

She smiles down at him and when she doesn't see any wounds apart from the bruising on his shoulders and upper chest and runs her fingers through his tangled hair. As her nails scratch his scalp softly he lets out a quiet purr of contentment and leans back into her legs. "You're here late. Something wrong with your apartment? Not that i don't mind the company…"

The languid comfortable atmosphere reminds her of the brief time they had dated right after graduating U. A., they showered together often and it had usually been at some ungodly hour due to all the hero work they had taken up. Unfortunately after a few months they found that they both had too many issues to work through for the relationship to work out. Nemuri had too many problems with commitment and trust and Aizawa had been unable to keep up with her rampant sex drive and had abandonment issues that she was unequipped to deal with at the time.

In the end they decided they were much better off as friends and it had worked well for them. She and Aizawa were closer that they had ever been as lovers and the dynamic they had worked wonderfully.

Shouta's deep voice echoed gently off the walls as she looked down at him.

"We interrupted an arms deal at the docks. Three of the League members were there… Shigaraki is planning something."

She hmm'ed quietly as she listened to him. "Are you worried still? All for One is gone so there's a strong chance they're just a group of unguided misfits now."

Aizawa shook his head, "No, Shigaraki is childish and impulsive but he is _intelligent. _There has to be something he's planning, even without AFO's influence."

He reached up and made a grabby hand at her till she deposited a shampoo bottle in his open palm. "It's been weeks and no heroes have been attacked." She wondered out loud.

"Yet."

She had no response as she watched him scrub at his hair. Her eyes drifted to the dark scar covering his elbow.

The memory of how she'd thought he was going to die in front of them washed over her and she trailed her eyes over the rest of his body, all the scars on his back and arms. She worried about him often, their work was always going to be dangerous and she knew that he was the least likely to take any unnecessary risks, but that didn't stop her concern. He was hard-headed as hell and that Shigaraki kid had attempted to kill a handful his students in their bid to take down All Might and they had kidnapped Bakugou Katsuki. She would be genuinely surprised if the underground hero wasn't holding a grudge.

She kneels down silently and wraps her arms around his shoulders, planting a soft kiss on the side of his head.

"Don't stress yourself too much, hmm? You'll get an ulcer."

He snorts at her and she stands, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. "I'll leave you to brood. Try to get some sleep ok? And lock up when you leave."

He pokes his head around the shower curtain, soaking hair dripping down his face and onto the floor. "Plans?"

The long haired woman nods as she dries her hair gently. "Yamada wanted me to be on the station with him this morning."

Aizawa doesn't reply and Nemuri makes her way into the laundry room to find a set of clothes for the day.

* * *

_Same morning _

_2:47 a. m. _

Kirishima isn't sure exactly what wakes him up from the exhausted sleep he'd fallen into. What he does know is that he immediately wants to return to the land of the semi-dead, but finds himself unable to fall back asleep once he realizes where he is.

He, Bakugou, and Kaminari had all decided to have a movie night after an impromptu study session for their Disaster Containment test the next day since they had all been piled up in the blonde's room anyway. Bakugou had protested immediately, claiming that he needed a full night rest to be prepared for classes but Kirishima had told him that tomorrow was Friday anyway so they wouldn't be doing anything important besides the test. Kaminari had given the explosive boy puppy eyes and said he just didn't want to be alone. At the sad look on the shorter boy's face Bakugou had growled and shoved his hands deep into his pockets before grunting out something that had sounded vaguely like the word 'Fine'.

Now he was splayed out on the floor in front of the large TV in the shorter boys room. The title screen for the stupid action movie they had been watching was playing on a loop, the soft light illuminating the room just enough for the red head to see exactly what position he'd ended up in.

Kaminari is laying next to his left leg, drooling slightly and head turned, pressed into the red head's thigh, snoring quietly with an Electabuzz plush clutched tightly to his chest. It's adorable and Kirishima wishes he knew where his phone was so he could post this on snapchat. When he looks to his right side he feels all the air leave his lungs and his face heat up to a point he's not sure is healthy.

At some point during his little nap, Bakugou has fallen asleep as well. Which wasn't really surprising, he went to bed so early so Eijirou and Denki had both known it was going to be a gamble on whether or not he was going to stay awake long enough to finish the movie.

**However. **

Not only had the blonde fallen asleep, he had curled himself into Kirishima's side, his head resting up against the other boys hip and a hand is fisted in the loose t-shirt the redhead had on.

Even in sleep Bakugou looks angry, brows drawn together (though not as harshly as usual) and a small frown etched onto his face. But something about him looks softer, calmer. He's snoring softly, mouth slightly open and Eijirou is sure he's probably going to have drool all over his shirt in the morning but he can't find it in himself to be grossed out. It makes him feel strange, how much the sight makes him want to smile until his face rips in half. His arm is resting around Bakugou's hunched shoulders and his fingers are just brushing the fabric of the shirt bunched up around the blonde's waist.

For a moment he wants to reach down and press his palms against Bakugou's warm back, but he doesn't want to run the risk of waking him up. So he settles back on the mound of pillows behind him and slowly drifts back to sleep contentedly. Just after he drifts off, a figure walks past the open doorway, glancing briefly at the dogplie of boys before continuing down the stairs silently.

* * *

_7:55 p. m. _

If there's one attribute most people didn't associate with Hawks, it was patience. Most people just assumed that because he was so young that he was also part of the generation of 'instant gratification', which simply wasn't true. It was one of the things that made him stand out as a hero, especially at his age, apart from his quirk, people skills, fighting ability, and perspicacity. He was fine during long stake outs, hostage negotiations, and undercover work.

_Most_ undercover work.

His recent task of infiltrating the League of Villains was beginning to make him antsy, mostly due to his dealings with a certain fire user. Just the thought of the cocky bastard made Hawks' feathers ruffle as he lazily flipped through channels on his TV.

Having to deal with Dabi making him jump through hoops for weeks on end was beginning to strain his nerves, nevermind the fact that he _still_ hadn't met that Shigaraki guy either. He wondered what the chances were that stitcheface was stringing him along until he was no longer useful and decided to roast him instead.

_One Hawks rotisserie coming up! _

The thought made him sink lower into the couch, brow creased in annoyance.

_Sounds just like that rat bastard… _

**Ting! **

"~Speak of the devil~!" Hawks uttered loudly in a terrible American southern accent as he leaned halfway off the couch to grab at the small flip phone laying on his coffee table. Dabi's name flashed on the small front screen indicating a message. Blowing a lock of wild blonde hair out of his face the young hero flipped the piece of plastic open and clicked on the message panel.

_8:04P.M._

_nned u hre asap_

The small message immediately put Hawks on alert; for all the jokes he made about the man being a shitty Millennial and having terrible tech skills, Dabi's messages never contained shorthand or misspellings, nor did he ever exclude punctuation even when he was highly inebriated. Either something was wrong or Dabi's phone had been stolen.

The most logical thing Hawks could think of was that this was another one of that ashy mother fucker's hairbrained tests, a way to challenge his loyalty to the League. The other part of of his brain wanted to ignore the message or tell Dabi to fuck off, that he was tired of games and being jerked around. But he knew deep down that the sooner he gained the man's trust the sooner he would be introduced to the rest of the League and the Hero could begin dismantling them from the inside and then never take another undercover mission again.

Sighing dejectedly the number 2 hero rolled off his couch and shook his feathers out to try to get the feeling back in them from where he'd laid on them too long. Pulling on his boots and shoving the phone in his pocket Hawks climbed out onto his fire escape. Extending his wings and cracking his neck the young blonde pulled down his visor and took off into the night sky.

* * *

_7:58 p. m. _

Shouto looked different than he had during the Sports Festival and the summer camp. The desperate fear from the camp and the stony confidence of the Festival were gone, replaced by the same apathetic intensity as the boy's father. His two toned eyes gave away nothing about how he was feeling or why he was even there. Not like the kid was a chatterbox either, meaning that they'd had a long staring contest before Dabi had gathered his wits enough to grab his coat and dive through the closest doorway, sending a blast of flames towards the fire and ice user. The sheer intensity of them immediately caused the ice wall the kid created to shatter at the extreme temperature difference.

_I'm in no condition to be going up against this kid right now. _

Dabi headed out into the other side of the hallway, narrowly avoiding falling down the stairs when Shouto froze the floor in an attempt to slow him down. Grabbing onto the railing and flipping over the side of it he managed to jump down to the next floor with the Todoroki trailing closely after him, the impact from the landing sending shockwaves of pain through his body.

Ducking into one of the rooms on this floor he pulled out his phone and sent a brief message to the one person he knew could help him at this point.

Panting as he listened to the small footsteps came closer to the doorway Dabi let out a breath and launched himself at Shouto just as he crossed the threshold. An icy hand closed around his upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip and Dabi got a hand around his throat. As they fell the younger boy wrenched them both to the left, trying to control their fall so he would end up on top but overcompensated because Dabi was much lighter than he thought and they both slammed into the doorframe. It caught Shouto in the shoulder, the impact strong enough to make him release his grip on the villain. Which was lucky because Dabi used the same hand to keep himself from slamming face first into the wood. It did not keep him from sprawling onto the dirt covered floor, scrambling to right himself before Shouto cou-

A dense body slammed into him, pinning him to the floor on his stomach with his arm twisted behind his back much like Eraserhead had done.

He bucked against the body holding him down. "Get off you little fucker!"

"No." The arm was twisted farther back and he felt his shoulder creak under the pressure. A hand reached around and grabbed his jaw, pulling his head back at an ungodly angle, almost completely cutting off his air supply.

He let out a breathy curse as he opened his eyes to stare directly into the heterochromatic pair only a few inches away from his face. Todoroki stared into his eyes, unblinking for a long moment, not wanting to believe what he knew he was looking at. But the evidence of his suspicion was staring him dead in the face and there was no denying himself the truth.

Feeling his vision starting to darken around the edges Dabi felt his head get pulled back even farther, effectively choking him. Unable to breathe and feeling the staples in his face and below his collarbone pull and strain under the pressure he panicked. From the hand Todoroki had pinned behind him he released another burst of flames, feeling his elbow and shoulder crack painfully from the recoil. The kid dodged the attack at the last minute, releasing his head to jump back a few feet. Dabi's face slammed into the concrete floor and the instant flash of white hot pain sent his brain into overdrive.

He immediately shoved himself off the floor and took off out the open doorway, then out an open window onto a fire escape. Running down the steps as fast as he could Dabi didn't bother to look back up to see if the kid was following him. He was too busy trying to stay conscious. He could taste the blood on his upper lip from where he'd busted his nose on the floor.

_In and out. _

He told himself as he tried to steady his breathing, rounding a corner of the alley way he'd just dropped down into and slammed into a solid body.

He nearly punched the figure in the face before the firm hand on his bicep (too large to be Shouto) steadied him before he fell. "Dabi?"

_Hawks_

He relaxed somewhat as the short hero pulled his hand back to look behind where the villain had just come from. "Where's the fire?"

"We need to leave. Now." He didn't have time for Hawks' stupid jokes, he needed to get somewhere he could sleep for a while.

The blonde hero held his hands up in surrender. "OK, go where? Do I need to take you to the others?" Hawks knew it wasn't his most subtle moment but Dabi looked pretty fucked at the moment and he had to at least try. "No, jackass. Take me to your place." Dabi said tonelessly as he snorted then spit out a wad of blood, as if Hawks was supposed to just casually take him to his apartment.

"Are you off your goddamn tits? I'm _not _taking you to _my_ apartment!" Hawks crossed his arms and glared angrily at the black haired man swaying in front of him.

A hand shot out to grab his shoulder and it took everything in him to not send a razor sharp feather right between Dabi's eyes. The fire user leveled him with a steely gaze that seemed to be less focused that it should have been.

"Hero, I'm not giving you a choice. Quit.. fucking….around." His breathing was getting more labored, the hand on his shoulder was going slack.

That was all the warning Hawks had before Dabi's knees gave out and the winged hero jumped forward to keep the unconscious villain from crashing into the ground.

"Dabi! What the fuck man… Shit!"

Huffing as he pulled the limp body closer to him trying to get a better grip he silently bemoaned what he was sure was the loss of his free weekend.

Goddamn why did this mother fucker have to be so tall? Hawks grunted as he arranged the man in a way that would be easy to carry while he was flying. To his apartment. To let Dabi stay there.

_God I need a drink after this._

The Hero thought to himself as he took off into the night sky for the second time that night.

* * *

_8:38 p.m._

Shouto sat quietly in the abandoned building as he stared at the the spot where Dabi had been moments before, dirt and dust still holding the vague imprint of where his body had laid.

It was odd, Shouto thought, that he had spent the last few weeks obsessing over something he was almost sure was true and it had only taken a quick scuffle for him to confirm what he had suspected (_known_) since the training camp.

The way the villain had said his name as they'd dragged Bakugou through the warpgate, the cold fury in his eyes. The eyes that were just like _his. _Just like Fuyumi's.

It seemed his father had some explaining to do.


End file.
